[CHAPTER 1 – Arrival at High Heaven Pavilion]
Location: Outer Ridge Road, Sky Pillar Mountain Range
Time: Early Spring, Year of the Falling Star
Weather: Chilly wind, clear skies
Age: 15
Cultivation: None (Body Tempering Incomplete)
Class: Trial Disciple (Unranked)
Inventory: Nan Family identity token, plain travel robe, basic martial arts manual
Fate Status: Dormant
Rival: Yang Kai (location unknown to you… for now)
Narrative:
The mountain road curves sharply as your boots crunch against gravel and dust. Far ahead, nestled between jagged peaks, sits High Heaven Pavilion—a martial sect once glorious, now middling but respected.
You've arrived alone.
Sent away from the Nan Family's capital branch, your name was crossed from their inner records, labeled disappointment.
"Too soft."
"Too slow."
"Let him go cultivate and disappear."
That's what they said.
But you… you haven't forgotten who you are. Nan Sheng—and you're here to build your legacy from nothing.
You reach the Outer Disciple Gate.
An old man with white eyebrows squints at your token, then grunts.
"Another one from a Great Family… don't expect special treatment here."
You're shown to the Trial Disciple quarters—a row of battered wooden huts outside the main sect. You sleep on a straw mat. Your neighbors are injured, thin, bitter.
You are now officially one of them.
Morning: Day One of Training
The courtyard echoes with the sound of fists striking wooden posts.
You're told to begin basic physical training, but no techniques are given. No guidance. Trial disciples are expected to fight each other for food, resources, and cultivation chances.
A boy near you falls under a beating—mocked by two older outer disciples.
You're next.
One of them eyes your clean Nan Family boots.
"Looks like a young master brought his pride to the trash heap."
[Scene – Trial Disciples' Courtyard: First Fight Begins]
Two outer disciples approach—older, stronger, overconfident. They circle you like jackals, already laughing.
"What's wrong, young master? Lost your servants?"
You say nothing.
They rush in.
[Combat Round 1 – Dodge & Observe]
The first one throws a wide hook aimed at your cheek. You slip backward, letting it pass an inch from your nose.
The second rushes from your blind spot—but you duck low, letting him stumble forward.
Their eyes narrow. They're surprised—but not yet worried.
[Combat Round 2 – Keep Moving]
You backpedal around a stone pillar, letting them chase. Your movements are instinctive. You don't waste energy. You're not panicking.
They start to sweat, angry now. One swings a stick, but you slide under the blow like water.
"This one moves like a ghost…"
[Combat Round 3 – Observation Complete]
You've memorized their timing. Their bad footwork. Their open stance.
You see the patterns.
And you're already improving.
[Combat Ends – Intervention Triggered]
As they move to corner you, a deep voice cuts across the courtyard.
"Enough."
Everyone freezes.
A tall inner disciple walks into the ring—sleeves billowing, sword at his side. His name is Su Mu, cousin to an elder. He gives the bullies a cold look, then glances at you.
"You handled yourself well—for someone with no cultivation. You learn fast. Survive long enough, and you might even be worth something."
The two attackers back away, sneering. You remain silent, but your pride is intact.